The Chronicles of Sexy Bruce
by Kipling Bunny
Summary: Diana and her encounters with our favorite billionaire playboy/nighttime philanthropist. Entirely what the title implies. A Geeky/Kipling production!
1. Shirtless and Sweaty

A/N(1):This is an idea that spawned from Geeky BMWW Fan's ever insightful mind and I am completely on board. These _Chronicles_ are a Geeky/Kipling production. I've written the first, she shall write the second and so on and so forth. Till we run out of ideas. (_lol_)

A/N(2): I hope this shows up correctly, I'm posting this at 1:50AM right after returning from Wolverine (shout out!!). Thank you in advance to those who read and review! Much appreciation! :D

And Geeky, thank you for the beta. Looking forward to your addition!

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_One: _Shirtless and Sweaty

* * *

Considering Bruce and Diana's blossoming friendship, Alfred was none too surprised to see the smiling civilian-clothed Amazon in front of him after he had gently opened the grand front door. Diana's soft knock had a signature to it; Alfred knew it had been her.

"Miss Diana, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Before waiting for an answer, he thereupon ushered her inside.

Her hair was up in a ponytail, but she unconsciously tucked a nonexistent strand behind her ear while grinning. "I was in the neighborhood..."

Alfred smiled knowingly. 'In the neighborhood' could have translated into 'this side of the eastern seaboard', but he was more than delighted to have her entering the manor.

Before she had to ask, Alfred announced, "The Master is in the Cave, attending to a routine maintenance schedule." Diana opened her mouth to comment, but he continued. "Have you eaten yet?"

She shook her head, ponytail bouncing slightly.

"I'll bring you two down sandwiches." And with that, Alfred was already busying himself in the kitchen.

Diana stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts. She knew Alfred would graciously without fail welcome her into his home as he had done so many times before. However, she often wondered how Bruce felt about it.

There was only one way to find out.

Feeling as though she now had free range to move about the manor, Diana without hesitation strode over to the ornate grandfather clock that provided the single barrier between her and her destination.

After opening it slowly, the all too familiar scent of the underground habitat of the Batman hit her nostrils. The dank, moist smell wasn't entirely pleasant, but Diana allowed the scent to linger after taking in a couple deep breaths.

While descending the sturdy steps, she quickly re-imagined the few visits Wonder Woman had made to Gotham. Especially when Batman was quick to tell her to stay out of his city.

But visiting the manor was different, Diana decided. Because here she wasn't Wonder Woman, she was simply Diana. And besides, the manor was outside of city limits. No harm done there.

Expecting him to acknowledge her presence at any moment, Diana said nothing. But all she heard was the quiet still of the cave and the faint hum of the central computer system.

His usual perch, the computer's seat, was empty.

Nonplussed, she thoughtfully mulled this over. Routine maintenance? What else could...?

Diana glanced about the massive underbelly of the manor. The Watchtower transporters were pristine and shiny, as were the main generators and Cray mainframes. They were also notably Bruce-less.

Considering this, she technically only had one option left. Unless Bruce had departed without Alfred's knowledge. Which happened more often than not.

In thought-filled silence, she walked over to the main hangar which housed prized possessions: the jets and the Batmobile.

Diana new she had been on the right track, as the hangar was awash in light from the non-standard lighting system. She walked forward and without further ado, she spotted him immediately at the side of the long, sleek black car that dutifully assisted him during every nightly patrol.

Upon sight of him, Diana promptly bit her lower lip and doused the butterflies fluttering in her abdomen with an iron will.

_Oh Hera._

He was shirtless. And he was working on his car.

It was enough to make the average woman's mind short-circuit while beholding such beautiful masculinity. And what else was it? Ah yes, _hotness. _She had heard that phrase before on many occasions. Especially from Wally.

When it came to 'hotness' the only thing that Diana could and would use to describe with such an adjective was Bruce. More importantly, _right now_ for instance.

Still, when it came to being a woman, Diana was above average. Of course her mind had become quite fuzzy, but she hadn't lost the ability to think. Thankfully.

Because as soon as she caught sight of him, he knew she was there. And it was better to know what to do next if he gruffly needed her to make a fast exit.

He still said nothing while his back remained facing her, and Diana was intricately memorizing every muscle. His rhomboids and trapezius muscles were simply... amazing. And his deltoids and latissimus dorsi were like nothing she had witnessed before.

But of course, he knew she was there and staring at his back.

"Princess?" The soft baritone halted her stare down. Somewhat. "What are you doing here?"

Diana crashed down to reality. Somewhere along the lines of staring at his back muscles, she had somehow entered a fantasy of coming to know exactly what they felt like and...

"Uh, Alfred..." She stopped to compose herself briefly. "...Is making me lunch." It was the complete, honest truth.

He took a moment to straighten his posture after hunching over the Batmobile's open hood and turned around to face her. It was right then when Diana's mind officially short-circuited.

His bare chest was slightly sweaty and gleaming. Literally gleaming! The stationary lights in the hangar were enough to just barely expose detail on his ever expansive torso all while leaving enough to be handled with an ever persistent imagination. And to make matters worse, he was wiping his hands off on a rag without once lessening his standardized heady stare that could turn her into a puddle of mush on the floor.

Thank Hera it hadn't. Diana could only handle so much in one day.

"Is that so?"

Diana had already forgotten what had been said. "Huh?"

"Alfred's making you lunch?"

Oh right! Of course. How silly of her. Half of her brain wanted to chide her on being so swayed by the sight of a barely clothed Bruce, but her energy was currently stabilizing her from becoming ...well... a puddle of mush.

"Yes. He is. He's making us both lunch actually... "

Speaking of which, where was the Englishman? Her stomach was already demanding an Alfred creation, but she had the suspicion that he was taking his time. On purpose.

Alfred could be so cleverly cheeky at times.

Pushing any current Bruce thoughts aside, she walked forward and studied in the inner workings of the Batmobile. The mechanics of the car were an easy diversion.

"What are you doing?" She asked thoughtfully.

If Bruce had been at all irritated by her sudden intrusion into his home, or better yet, the cave, Diana couldn't sense it. Instead, he quickly rattled off what he had been working on.

"It's occurred before, so I wasn't too deterred. You see," Bruce pointed to a round looking object protruding slightly, "This is the distributor cap, which is part of the ignition system. When I fire it up, the internal combustion engine routes everything in a firing order. It's all in connection to the ignition coil here," he pointed and Diana nodded, "and the distributor shaft underneath the cap is connected to the camshaft."

She smiled and nodded, allowing him to continue. Surprisingly, Bruce seemed delighted in the fact that he was able to share information with her. It's as if his mind had gone into 'car mode' and he almost seemed like an entirely different person from his usual shadowy self.

Perhaps talking about mechanics and how things worked affected all men like that? It was something to consider.

Bruce continued to explain, "Now, you should know... all modern engines don't usually have the distributor, it's now a primary circuit system that goes from ignition to the engine, allowing it to start. But when building this thing from the ground up, I found it easier to make modifications without the low-voltage arrangement messing with the computer system that's linked in the car. Therefore, since it's state-of-the-art, I'm technically the only person that can work on it. Though Dick is pretty knowledgeable. But I had to give him a crash course in the schematics."

"I see," Diana frowned while looking down again into the car's shaft. The engine, the distributor, the ignition coil... She was trying to piece it all together. It seemed somewhat simple after he explained it to her. "So, what's wrong with it?"

"Oh, it has an oil leak," he deadpanned.

Diana raised a brow. After the entirety of his explanation, she figured the problem would have been integral and paramount. An oil leak seemed so simple.

"So, does that have anything to do with the... uh," she glanced down at the distributor cap," this?"

"I thought it might have, but I only needed an O-ring."

"Oh."

"Do you want to feel?"

Diana swallowed hard and her eyes somehow maneuvered to his bare chest, but she quickly refocused on his face. "Feel what?"

"The oil leak," Bruce answered flatly.

"Oh right... yes, I would." She glanced down into the engine compartment once again and wondered where it would be. Bruce then gently took hold of her hand to guide her. This made Diana shiver involuntarily. He then maneuvered her hand past the spark plugs and pressed her fingers into something.

"That's the oil filter," he said into her ear. "It's leaking."

Diana swallowed again. "It. It is?"

"Don't you feel the damp part?"

"Damp?" This was getting too much for her and she quickly retracted her hand in a flutter. "I did, yes. Are you going to fix it?"

He grinned. "Well, yeah. I should have it done before patrol." Bruce then glanced down at her balefully. "Diana? You wiped your hand on her sweatshirt."

She looked down. So she did. In her apparent fluster, she must have absent-mindedly brushed off her hand on her white zip-up sweatshirt. She then groaned at her stupidity.

"Alfred can wash it for you."

Diana nodded and unzipped her sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitting camisole underneath. It must have been distracting for Bruce, because he swiftly looked away and handed her the rag he had used before to wipe off her hand entirely.

He managed to look back at her, though Diana noticed he was being very careful to only look at her face. He chuckled. "Diana, you have oil on your face too."

"I do?" Diana now felt like she was far too inadequate for this whole 'car' thing.

"Here, let me help you." Diana watched half-horrified, half-enraptured as Bruce licked his thumb and started rubbing oil off her cheek. She tried to steady her rapidly beating heart, but to no avail.

"There," he smiled, "now you look perfect."

She let out a small breath and nodded her thanks. She looked up at him again and tried to avoid his intensified gaze. Suddenly there was tension between then that could have been cut with a knife. And then some.

Bruce took a single step forward, but Alfred was there to intervene.

"Lunch is served!"

Diana couldn't believe Alfred's timing. But she still smiled and once she eyed the tray of sandwiches and pitcher of cranberry juice, she finally realized how hungry she was. And with that, the smiling Englishman was off, most likely to start on dinner.

"Thank you, Alfred!" Diana called after him heartily. Still, she was wishing nothing had been interrupted.

Bruce had already turned back towards the Batmobile and started tinkering again. Diana frowned, she was afraid that their 'momen't was long gone, never to be touched on again.

After taking a swig of cranberry juice, she wondered if perhaps she was interrupting Bruce's work and needed to go back up to the manor.

He must've read her mind. "Are you planning on leaving?" He asked distantly.

"Well, I..."

"Because," he turned around to look at her. "I have something else to show you."

Diana's face lit-up. Auto mechanics be praised!

"Oh really? And what is that exactly?"

He remained mysterious about it. "You'll see. Besides, I have to add something to the jet later. And I was hoping that I could perhaps get a look at yours one of these days..."

Without notice Diana's mind went elsewhere, "My... what?"

Bruce's brow raised. "Your jet."

"Oh, of course."

With that, Diana counted the hours they had till dinner. Hopefully Alfred was _not_ going to come down again any time soon.

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Like? No like? Let me know! Thanks for reading!

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	2. Wet and Glistening

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks Kiplington the III. While I have nothing to offer for the enclave, I bestow upon you one of those nifty Star Trek lapel pins that they would touch to transport (I think?). Live long and prosper, sucka!

Here is my addition to The Chronicles of Sexy Bruce. Are you guys sensing a theme here?

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_Chapter Two:_ Wet and Glistening

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The warm sun beat down on the reclining Amazon, causing Diana to turn over to her stomach on the lounge chair. She tried reading some more of her book, but gave up five minutes later. The breeze had disappeared, and the heat was getting to the point of discomfort.

Standing up, Diana grabbed her towel and book. Adjusting her bathing suit top, she wandered into the Manor. She and J'onn had been staying there ever since Bruce had decided the Watchtower made a good space to earth missile. While some of her day was spent in League planning and meetings, whatever down time she had, she spent wandering the mansion. There were certain places she kept away from, not wanting to upset Bruce, especially while he was recuperating from his brush with death.

But the invasion had been over two weeks ago, and Bruce was already going out on patrol. She saw him occasionally, mostly at lunch, sometimes as he was on his way out at night. The limited contact was making her impatient, because she fully intended to resolve some issues between her and the owner of the house. While she didn't expect a discussion about that kiss in the restaurant, she certainly wasn't going to allow it to be a one-time occurrence. And now that he was healthy enough to go patrolling at night, she figured he could handle some alone time with her.

Now if only she could find him.

She strolled into the kitchen, where Alfred was busy preparing for lunch. Looking up from his work, he smiled in greeting. "Ready for an afternoon dip, Miss Diana?"

Feeling slightly under dressed, Diana wrapped her towel around her body. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, but I was actually looking for Bruce."

"Ah. Unfortunately, Master Bruce is in physical therapy. I will make sure to let him know you are looking for him."

Diana let out a irritated sigh as she turned to leave. "Thanks, Alfred."

"And Miss Diana, if you are still wanting to take a swim, the indoor pool is located on the first floor in the east wing, next to the sauna."

Instantly brightening at the idea of a refreshing swim, Diana waved goodbye to the butler and headed towards the east wing.

Once she passed what she recognized as the sauna, she saw the clear glass door. Opening it, she stared longingly at the serene waters of the rectangular shaped pool. The cold tile bit at her feet as she walked over to the ledge, and she realized that she didn't felt quite as warm or sticky as she had moments ago. In fact, the air conditioning of the house was giving her goosebumps.

Towel still wrapped around her, she cautiously stuck in her toe. The water was a smidge on the cool side, so Diana decided to just soak her legs. Careful not to get her towel wet, Diana sat down, dangling her feet in the pool as she read some more.

Not even through the first paragraph, she heard a sound to her right. Looking over her shoulder, she saw what was making the noise.

It was Bruce.

In a speedo.

And apparently he didn't know she was there. He was too busy adjusting the strap on his goggles.

Her eyes traveled from his feet to the curve of his calves, slowly moving up to his knees, admiring how his quadriceps flared out. Knowing a bit about languages, she briefly tried looking for four distinct sections of muscle, but she didn't get far. She was too busy admiring how powerful his thighs looked.

Out of feminine delicacy, her gaze jumped to his neck, and she could feel her jaw grow slack as she poured over his chest and shoulders. When she got to his stomach she couldn't keep from wanting to run her fingers in the indentations made by the rise of his obliques over his hips. She hadn't even looked at his arms yet.

_Sweet Aphrodite.._

She could literally feel her whole body melt.

Her enjoyment was interrupted by a loud splash.

Horrified, Diana looked as her book slowly sank to the bottom of the pool.

Her eyes darted back over to him, and she could feel her cheeks burn at the knowing smirk pulling at his pouty lips.

_Pouty? Did I just think that?_

Diana shook her head, hoping to clear the cobwebs of her mind.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked.

Diana blinked in confusion. "…Yes?"

"About what?" he clarified.

"Oh." Um. "I wanted to talk to you about…" Trouble was, she couldn't remember what it was.

He continued to walk towards her, and her eyes moved wildly from side to side, trying to look away as he loomed larger in the periphery of her vision.

Diana took a calming breath, chanting a refrain over and over in her mind. _I will not look at his speedo, I will not look at his speedo, I will not…_

He finally stopped a few inches from her. Depending on your point of view, it was a most advantageous or disadvantageous…point of view.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but was too afraid to look over. A slight breeze fanned across her skin, and she realized his arms were windmilling and flexing across his chest as he warmed up.

Diana scrambled to her feet, and the towel fell. She glanced down, fearful that it too had fallen in the pool. Seeing that the cloth was safe and dry, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down, running her fingers through her hair. The hand dropped when she felt his eyes on her.

She stared down her front, and somehow managed to force herself not to fold her arms across her chest. Her uniform was admittedly tiny, but even he had never seen her in so little.

Bruce's arms stopped moving, and she turned on him. He quickly looked over at the pool.

Diana smiled. At least she wasn't the only one afraid of nylon covered body parts.

"Alfred told me you were in physical therapy," she said, taking a step closer. "Why are you out here?"

"This _is_ my physical therapy. It's low impact, and the water resistance and movements are great for building the muscles of the back, chest, and stomach."

She glanced down at the place where his right arm met his neck. There was a scar from the Thanagarian invasion. It was fading, but still a bright shade of pink. Her fingers twitched at her side.

"I see…I mean, that makes sense…since you are using your arms.." Diana felt her eyes begin to bug out at her stupidity. _Dear Athena, please give me back my mind._

"Exactly. Do you swim?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm not very good at it. Usually, I just power through the water."

"Not blessed by Poseidon, I take it."

"I guess not."

Bruce stepped over the side of the pool, and the small splash licked at Diana's toes and ankles.

He resurfaced a few seconds later, soggy book in hand. She leaned over to get it, and through his goggles, she could see him close his eyes. When he opened them, they were locked on her forehead.

"Are you coming in?"

Diana weighed it over in her mind for a second, all the while watching him float on his back. She immediately set the book aside and took the plunge.

"Want to race?" Bruce asked.

She didn't answer him immediately. Instead, she treaded the water, waiting for her body to acclimatize to the cool liquid. As she waited, she began to notice the droplets of water making their trek from Bruce's hair to his skin. With the sunlight coming in through the windows, he almost sparkled.

_Like a merman._

He gave her an odd look. "What was that?"

Trying to salvage the situation, Diana remembered she still hadn't told him if she wanted to race. "I don't really know the different kinds of swimming styles."

"I can teach you. It's not difficult."

Giving up on words, Diana just nodded her head..

He swam close to her, and the two bobbed up and down in the water for a few seconds.

"Maybe we should move to the shallow end."

Diana giggled. She was already there.

Bruce raised a brow, and moved his goggles up on his head. Flipping over onto his back, he watched as she followed him. The contrast in styles was marked. She had to keep in constant movement to keep from sinking.

Their feet now planted firmly on the pool floor, they both stood. The water only came up to their waist, and it was taking all of her goddess given strength to keep looking at his face. Which said an awful lot about his body, considering how ridiculously good looking he was.

But she had seen his face all the time. His body on the other hand…she still had yet to decide what his best feature was, and now without the hindrance of Kevlar and tights, she wanted to scrutinize every last bit.

She had to take her chances. This opportunity to chart out and memorize his undiscovered territories might never present itself again.

"Where would you like to start?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Which swimming style would you like to learn first?"

"Which ones are there?"

"There's the breast stroke, the backstroke, the butterfly, and the freestyle." Trying not to picture the mental images some of the names conjured or to allow those mental images to influence her decision, Diana blurted out, "Backstroke."

"Alright, lay back."

"What?"

Bruce laughed a little, moving his hand up to his hair. The sight of his biceps and triceps made Diana's heart beat faster. And when he placed his hand on her lower back, she couldn't suppress a shiver.

He noticed. "Maybe I should have Alfred adjust the temperature of the pool."

Diana just shrugged.

"Now, just lean back," he said at her ear..

Following his promptings, Diana tilted back, highly aware of the placement of his hand on her back. Bruce's other hand rested on her stomach. "You don't need to arch your back so much."

When they had corrected that problem, his hand moved to support the back of her head.

"I feel like I'm floating," she sighed happily.

"Not quite. I'd have to actually let go…Now I want you to put the arm closest to me in the air."

He peered down into her face, and said, "I'm going to let go of your head, so make sure you don't let it fall back too far. Otherwise, you'll be inhaling water." Diana nodded, fiercely focused on learning all the right moves.

Her concentration was broken the instant he moved his hand to her arm. "This should be stretched out, like this." His fingers trailed along the length of her skin, until his hand was grasped around hers.

"As your hand falls back into the water, you are going to rotate your shoulder and your body is going to tilt towards me." He watched as she slowly performed the motion. "Good. Now notice how your hand rotates before it plunges into the water again." He guided her through the motion, but rather than following their arms as they disappeared behind her head into the water, Diana watched his face.

She bit her lip, waiting for his next words.

By now her hand was submerged behind her head. "Now you need to bring your hand towards your hip, keeping it straight, so you can start the cycle over again. Of course, your other hand is supposed to be moving too, but we'll work on that a little later."

Diana was moving her straight arm in an underwater semi-circle when Bruce asked, "So what did you want to talk with me about?"

The image of them kissing in the restaurant flashed through her mind, and Diana unconsciously hurried through her motion. Incorrectly. Rather than just passing through the water, her fingers rubbed against Bruce's thighs. Or something down there that belonged to him. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Even if she did, she didn't get time to think about it.

His reaction was instantaneous. She could just hear his sharp intake of breath before the hand on her back disappeared and she sank like a stone in the water, gulping down a large mouthful of chlorinated water in the process.

She came up for air, spluttering and choking on the water, her hair a bedraggled mess covering her face.

"Sorry about that," Bruce said apologetically.

Diana was still coughing too hard to say anything. Bruce began patting her back, but when the fit had passed, he started rubbing slow circles instead. Needless to say, she preferred this back stroke much more than the other one.

"Maybe we started off with too hard a stroke."

Too embarrassed to do anything but nod miserably, Diana tried to hide behind her hair, but Bruce wouldn't let her. As he brushed the black strands out of her eyes, she stared down into the water.

Even with the refraction of the water, she still had a pretty good look at what was underneath.

"It wasn't that bad for your first time."

Underserved compliments from Bruce were a rarity. They were also a lie. Diana raised a skeptical brow.

"What? I thought you looked good."

"Really?" she asked, sarcastically.

"Well, your swimming was terrible, but everything else looked…" His eyes dropped for just a brief moment to her mouth before they were back at her eyes. "Beautiful."

"I have a very dedicated teacher."

Bruce tilted his head down close to hers, this time his eyes unmistakably trained on her lips. "Those are the best kind."

She could almost taste the glistening drops of water on his mouth when the dulcet tones of J'onn J'onnz echoed in her mind. "Batman and Wonder Woman, I hate to interrupt your physical…therapy, but Superman is asking that we meet in the dining room in ten minutes."

Somehow the magic was lost, and reality came crashing down around her. Unfortunately, that came with the realization that her eyes, nose, and throat burned from swallowing the chlorine.

"Looks like we have a League meeting." Bruce released her. "We'll need to finish your lesson later."

"Sounds good." Hopefully by then her throat passages would be sufficiently recuperated for the other activities she had planned.

Together they swam over to the side of the pool closest to the door.

"After you, Princess." Bruce gestured to the door.

"No, after you.. I insist."

Stealing one more glance at the muscles of his back and arms as he pushed himself out of the water, Diana had trouble making a decision. Having now seen him from the front and back, she couldn't decide which end she liked more.

"Need some help?"

"Uh, no." Diana scrambled out of the pool, fully aware that he was ogling her just as much as she had done him.

He handed her a towel, and they both started drying off.

"Do you have any plans after the meeting?" she asked.

"Just some more physical therapy."

"Going swimming again?" Diana tried but couldn't keep from sounding hopeful.

"No…How do you feel about saunas?"

A hot enclosed space with Bruce in nothing more than a robe?

"I can't think of anything better."

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Points to those who can point out the Zoolander references. =D


	3. Steamy and Mouthwatering

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks to Kipling for the beta. Here's hoping that Star Trek lived up to your expectations and that there was plenty of Spock/Uhura love. What would the be called? Spura? Uhurock? =D I don't know how it's supposed to be spelled. I see both Uhuru and Uhura on the web. Oh the craziness!

Thanks to that anonymous reviewer who listed her ideas for Sexy Bruce. I took the one about the kitchen. And this is what came out. And thanks for all reviewers. I can't reply, because it's not my account the reviews are getting sent to. Sorry!

Again, this takes place in that time where Diana and J'onn could have stayed with Bruce after the Watchtower got turned into a steaming pile of debris.

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_Three:_ Steamy and Mouthwatering

* * *

Diana walked into the kitchen, joining two of her three housemates. While J'onn was his usual calm self, Alfred was bustling about the kitchen looking worriedly.

"Is something the matter?" Diana asked.

"Ah, Miss Diana." He straightened up, wiping his hands down his apron. She had never seen him so…frazzled. "How are you this evening?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. What's going on? Is it anything I can help with?"

"I have plans for this evening that came up rather unexpectedly, and I fear I will not have enough time to make a proper dinner."

Diana looked over at the butler, her eyes twinkling and jokingly said, "Hot date?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Diana's laughed in delight. "Oh, Alfred, that's wonderful! Don't worry. I think between Bruce, J'onn, and me, we can make dinner."

She could tell Alfred did not believe her, but he looked thankful for the reprieve. Not that he would take her up on it…"You are guests in the Manor. I couldn't possibly allow you to make dinner."

"Then we won't. Bruce will."

While Alfred never did anything undignified, the almost snort that came from the proper Englishman nearly shocked Diana."Master Bruce? Cook?"

"Yes. In fact, I think it's a wonderful idea."

"I am not sure Master Bruce will be of the same opinion."

Diana was already pushing Alfred towards the door. "You need to get ready for your date. Leave Bruce to me."

"If you insist."

"I do. Good night, Alfred."

Alfred took of his apron, and Diana grabbed it from his hands before he could change his mind. Bowing to both her and J'onn, he made his goodbyes, adding just before he left, "If the Manor burns down, I trust you know how to reach me."

A few moments later, Bruce entered the room. Having been living here for awhile, Diana had begun to memorize his daily routines. He had just finished practicing in the cave and had recently showered. His wet hair shone in the light of the kitchen, and somehow he still looked insanely hot, even though he was only wearing sweats.

Diana began to wonder how he was even able to wear the sweat suit. She herself was in a t-shirt and shorts, and thought she was about to burn up.

Bruce gave an amused grin. "I just saw Alfred in the hall. Does anyone know what's going on with him?"

"He has a hot date," J'onn informed.

Bruce smiled, nodding his head in approval. "Good for him." Making his way to the oven, he asked, "What did he leave us for dinner?"

"Nothing," Diana said.

Bruce pulled away from the empty oven, confused. "That doesn't sound like Alfred."

"He was in a hurry. I told him we would take care of it."

"He would never agree to that."

"I told him you would cook for us."

Bruce started laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was beautiful.

"Well, who's up for Chinese?" Bruce walked towards the phone. "I have their number on speed dial."

J'onn rose from his seat. "I already know what I will be having for dinner, so I will leave that decision to you two."

Diana watched in amusement as J'onn made his way to the cupboard that housed the Oreos. He made one last pit-stop at the refrigerator, and while he hid the food under his cape, Diana guessed that her favorite Martian was about to partake of milk and cookies.

"Enjoy your meal," he said, exiting the kitchen."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders and picked the cordless phone off the receiver. "Chinese?"

"I was thinking we could try something different tonight."

"Italian?"

"That sounds good, but I was thinking you would make it."

Bruce put the phone back and gave her a no-nonsense look. "I don't cook."

"Why not?"

"One, I have Alfred to do it for me, and two, I'm horrible at it."

"I think you just need practice."

"Think all you like. I'm still ordering out."

He moved to pick up the phone, but her hand was on his. "If you make dinner, I'll make dessert," she promised

Their hands were still joined, and she could feel Bruce turn his fingers over as they brushed against her palm. Retracting her hand as if he had burned her, Diana looked away. "You really want this?" he asked, his voice amused.

Diana swallowed. "Yes."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Bruce pulled away and walked over to some drawers. He opened the topmost drawer, and pulled out a box. "Pick one."

Closing her eyes, Diana took a recipe out. "Spaghetti."

Bruce's sigh of relief was audible. "I think even I can handle that."

Bruce opened a cabinet and reached for a pot, bending over in the process.

Because Diana believed in the dignity of every human being and thought it insulting to objectify any person, whether man or woman, she was having a mini-crisis of conscience.

To look or not to look, that was her question.

Her answer: Just one, tiny peek.

Even though he could not see what she was doing, Diana covertly lowered her eyes to Bruce's posterior. The word callipygian came instantly to mind, and she started to wonder if one of her gods and goddesses had sculpted him out of clay as well.

"Diana," he called over his shoulder, "do you mind…"

Clearing her throat in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, she asked, "Mind what?"

Bruce didn't answer right away, finally crouching down to see better into the dark cabinet. "Do you mind getting some of the ingredients out?"

"Not at all."

Tearing her gaze away, Diana looked at the recipe. Fresh oregano, basil, bay leaves, parsley. Garlic powder, garlic, pepper. Onion.

Diana opened the refrigerator and stared inside, reveling in the blast of cool air against her skin. Being unversed in the ways of the kitchen, she had trouble identifying the different vegetables and spices. She was just about to call for Bruce's help identifying the different herbs and spices, when he was at her back, gazing over her shoulder.

Again, how was he not burning up? She felt like she was going to spontaneously combust.

"What are we looking for?" he said at her ear, and Hera help her, his breath against her skin made her shiver. She hoped he didn't see the goosebumps that had popped up along her skin.

Forcing herself to remain calm and detached, she rattled off the ingredients, "Oregano, basil, bay leaves, parsley, onions."

He reached around her, and she could feel his chest through his sweatshirt, pressed against her back. Her eyes fluttered shut, but then he was gone a second later.

She shut the refrigerator door, recalling the task at hand. "Did you get everything out?"

"Only thing we have is parsley and onions. We'll just use the dry spices for everything else."

Diana frowned, "The recipe says it's supposed to be fresh."

He winked at her, and Diana decided she would agree with whatever he said from then on. "I won't tell Alfred, if you won't. It will be our secret."

Diana couldn't keep from giggling. She liked secrets.

"So, where are they?" she asked.

"In the cabinet above my head."

Normally the cabinet would have required a step ladder to reach, but Diana was gifted by Hermes with flight. She slowly lifted herself into the air, and dug around for the spices while Bruce continued chopping the parsley and onion below. His elbow moved against her calf, creating a most delectable friction. She froze, bottle of oregano in her hand, eyes unseeing.

After about twenty seconds of skin on skin contact, she faintly heard Bruce call her name. "Are you having trouble?"

Her hand slackened, causing Diana to drop the oregano.. Thankfully, Bruce caught it, and handed it back to her, fingers brushing. He smiled up at her, "Lucky for you I have quick reflexes."

"Lucky for me," Diana murmured, quickly getting back to find everything she needed.

Pretty soon all the ingredients had been gathered, and the stove was turned on. They began adding some of the items to the tomato sauce, careful to avoid being splattered by the hot red liquid.

"Now we just need to let things simmer."

Diana swallowed, mouth dry. As far as she was concerned, things were already broiling.

As Bruce kept stirring the sauce, he began to engage her in small talk, and Diana began to relax. Her mind was still a little fuzzy, but at least she was capable of using it.

They were in the middle of discussing Alfred's date when Bruce turned to her, eyes serious. "Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"

"It is a little warm," Diana admitted. "Maybe I should…" All thoughts of adjusting the temperature flew out of her head the second she saw his fingers move to the hem of his sweatshirt. As he began to peel it off, she gripped the countertop. The toned muscles of his abdominals called to her, begging her to run her fingers over them.

She was only slightly disappointed when he pulled down the black wife-beater that had ridden up as he took the outer garment off. Fortunately, without the distraction of his torso, she was able to give her undivided attention to his arms as he stirred the pot. She gripped the counter harder. Thankfully it was made of granite.

The steam from the sauce rose in the air, gently licking at Bruce's arm. His forehead was covered with a light sheen of sweat, and he raised his forearm, mopping his brow. Similarly affected by the sultry conditions, Diana began to fan herself.

"How much do you think a dash is?" he asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Diana had not been paying attention to his words, and so she didn't know what to answer.

Trying not to panic, Diana nodded her head.

Bruce raised a confused brow, so Diana shook her head instead. He finally gave her an odd smile, then tipped the bottle of oregano over and shook it. Breaking out of her reverie, Diana peered over the side of the pot. There was now a green layer over the sauce. Seemingly satisfied, Bruce began stirring again, enveloping the dried flecks of green with the sauce.

"You must really like what I'm making. You're practically drooling."

Really? Discreetly turning her head to the side, she swiped at her mouth. Realizing that he was just teasing, Diana hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"I am not drooling."

The playful smirk on his mouth immediately caught her attention. He then began to drag his tongue across his lower lip, and her eyes followed the movement. "Of course you aren't." Diana's eyes snapped to his, and the mischievous glint she saw there made her blush even more. He knew how badly he was affecting her, and he was taking pleasure from it.

"Before you are completely mesmerized by my cooking skills, why don't you start boiling the water for the pasta?"

Well, at least that was something she could handle without humiliating herself further. Deciding not to argue with his choice of words, Diana walked around Bruce, who happened to be standing next to the cabinet where the pots were kept. She opened the door, bending over to find the pot. The tiny prickling of awareness at the back of her neck told her she was being watched. The knowledge made her stomach flutter, and she responded, hoping to get him back for all the teasing.

She moved so that her outer thigh brushed against his leg. And when she felt his fingers run up and down her skin, she knew she had made the right choice.

Pot in hand, Diana stood up, but didn't move, allowing Bruce to enjoy the contact for a few more seconds.

Eventually dragging herself away, Diana filled the pot with water and set it on the stove, turning it on. The uncooked pasta lay to Bruce's right, on the other side of the stovetop. As she waited for the water to boil, she moved back to Bruce's side, leaning against the counter. It wasn't long before the fingers of his free hand were on her leg again.

She didn't know how long they stood there, him stirring and her melting, but he eventually turned to look at her. In a raspy voice he said, "Want a taste?"

The dreamy, "Yes" she offered him would normally have made her feel foolish, but Bruce didn't seem to mind too much. And knowing that he liked seeing her affected by him spurred her on.

He held the wooden spoon up to her mouth, cradling his hand underneath it, so the sauce wouldn't drip on Alfred's gleaming floor. He blew on the sauce, cooling it down, though the whole time his eyes were on her mouth. She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

"Ready?" he said, his voice foggy.

Boldly, she grabbed his hand and guided the spoon to her mouth. As her eyelids began to close, he pressed the spoon to her parted lips, dragging it across before tipping it back to allow the sauce to drop into her mouth.

The moan of pleasure she had planned on releasing stuck in her throat. And it wasn't because of nerves.

The sauce tasted terribly.

Trying not to ruin the moment, Diana kept her eyes shut and swallowed the over-seasoned watery concoction, but she just couldn't. She gagged, and her eyes watered.

He walked over to her, clearly concerned, but she waved him away, rushing to get a drink of water. When her breathing had returned to normal, he was smiling ruefully at her, "That bad, huh?"

"Um…actually, it was quite…"

"Diana."

"It was awful. Worst spaghetti sauce I've ever tasted in my life."

"It can't be that bad." Turning to his pot, Bruce ladled himself a spoonful and downed it in one gulp. His nose screwed up adorably, and he started to laugh. "Is there anyway I can make it up to you?"

"I can think of one or two ways," she said as seductively as she could.

Apparently Bruce got the message. He trapped her against the counter, and she spread her hands out behind her to brace herself.

Wrong move.

Diana hissed in pain, instantly retracting her hand from the sizzling stove. Her flesh was bright red, and would no doubt start blistering very soon.

"Let me look at that," Bruce ordered.

Diana hid her hand behind her back, angry at the way they kept getting interrupted. "It's nothing."

While the look he gave her was not as intimidating as the batglare, he was clearly determined to see her hand. Blowing an irritated sigh out of the corner of her mouth, Diana offered her hand to him.

Bruce gently took it in his, slowly turning it over so he could see her palm. He frowned at the red line that bisected her hand. "Looks like a second degree burn."

He dropped her hand and stalked over to the freezer. Getting some ice out, Bruce brought it back over and took her hand again. Using one of the cubes, he traced the burn on her palm, staring balefully in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"I'll be fine."

He lifted the piece of ice and looked again at her hand. "The redness seems to be going down."

"I'm a quick healer."

Bruce nodded, setting the ice aside. "Now I have two things to make up for--burning your hand and trying to poison you." She would have laughed at how he disparaged his cooking skills, but his eyes were on her mouth again.

Diana wrapped the fingers of her good hand around one strap of his wife-beater, tugging him closer. "I think you were doing just fine before."

His hands tightened around her waist, lifting her up to seat her on the counter. His hands rested lightly on her knees as they both stared at each other, both breathing hard. Bruce was the first to move, taking her injured hand in his. He lifted it to his mouth and blew on her palm. Her fingers flexed in reaction, but he opened her hand back up, rubbing his lips across the bright red line the oven had marked on her skin.

Diana tilted her head back, resting it against a cupboard door as she watched Bruce play doctor to her decreasingly painful burn. He pressed one last kiss to the wound before setting her hand back down. His fingers tightened on her legs, and he lifted one, hooking it around his waist. She leaned forward, burying her face in his neck as he repeated the action with her other leg. Then he lifted her off the counter and carried her to the kitchen table, far away from the hazardous stove. "Wouldn't want you to get burnt again," he said, trailing his fingers down her back.

"Always so thoughtful."

He set her down on the table, staring at her as if she were his next meal. With what little mind she had left, she recalled they were not the only ones in the manor. "But what about J'onn?"

"He took three packages of Oreos and a gallon of milk. He won't be coming back down here any time soon." His nose moved to the hollow of her throat before he started alternating between dropping kisses and tasting the skin along her collar bone. Diana tilted her head to the side as he slowly lowered her down across the table. "Told you we should have ordered Chinese."

"If we did…then we wouldn't be here…on the table." Sentences were becoming too difficult to form, so she pulled his mouth to hers.

Diana thought the heat would annihilate her, and they were just starting. He was just beginning to trace the seam of her lips when a splash of cold water hit her on the face.

With a groan, Bruce broke away and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the house sprinklers had turned on, raining water from on high. From her place under him, Diana glanced back over to the stove. The sight that greeted her was horrific. The forgotten spaghetti sauce was smoking and splattering all over the place. The water for the pasta was boiling over, and the uncooked spaghetti had been scattered across the floor.

"Wow," she laughed, closing her eyes as the water fell.

Pushing off of her, Bruce cursed himself for not turning off the stove. He jerked viciously at the knobs, turning off the flames. Then he disappeared from the room. The sprinklers turned off a few seconds later.

When he came back, Diana sat up, taking instant notice of his clinging shirt and dripping hair. Then she looked at the mess they had made again. With a sigh, she slid off the kitchen table. They needed to clean up.

"Leave it," Bruce ordered.

"But what will Alfred say?"

"We'll get it later." He took her hand and started pulling her towards the door.

"But—"

"Diana."

"But--"

Bruce practically snarled, and Diana placed a finger against his mouth in an effort to calm him down.

"I promised you dessert."

Bruce almost started protesting, but stopped when he realized he wasn't going to win.

Diana left him for the fridge, coming back a few moments later.

Without warning, she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist again. He easily caught her.

"Nice reflexes," she said.

"Thank you."

He looked down at the food she was cradling between their bodies. When he saw the whipped cream and chocolate sauce, his face broke into a wide grin, which Diana returned.

"Let's go."

* * *

A/N: And then they went and made ice cream sundaes. =D


	4. Fast and Dangerous

Disclaimer: Wish they were mine. But alas, they are not.

Hey everyone! Here is another addition to the Chronicles. I hope you have been enjoying the ride so far. Thank you for all your awesome feedback!

Thanks to Geekstress for the beta. I hope you get a Batman of the right height. ;)

* * *

_Four:_ Fast and Dangerous

* * *

After a brief flash of light, Diana had been directly beamed into the Batcave.

The soft pitter-patter of her bare feet walking across the cold floor was all that could be heard in the enormous dark expanse. Within seconds, she was standing at the entrance to the cozier and somewhat warmer training room.

Bruce was already there, sitting on the floor cross-legged.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," Bruce said before she announced her arrival..

"Miss out on an opportunity to help train the Batman? Hardly," she bemused slyly.

Bruce smirked while raising himself to a standing position. "Naturally."

They were both adorned in loose fitting clothing, much to Diana's dismay. There wasn't much of Bruce to look at when he was covered up. It was a fact she dealt with on a regular basis since she only usually saw him during missions or when he was aboard the Watchtower. Still, the plain black t-shirt and matching sweatpants embraced his form like a tailored designer tuxedo.

Realizing she was staring at him with the intention to mentally disrobe him, she quickly looked up at his face. "Do you have your weapons ready?"

"Of course." Bruce walked over to the closest wall and opened a camouflaged drawer, unveiling an arrangement of neatly organized swords, ninja stars and various other sharp pointy objects. It was enough to make any renowned weapons master drool.

Bruce gingerly picked out two matching katanas and threw one to Diana. She caught it in mid-air.

Moving toward the center, while tucking a stray lock of hair that had rebelliously pulled away from her bun, she readied herself. Diana decidedly wore a long, blood-red tunic with flowing cotton trousers. Both were perfectly fitted for the sparring session about to take place.

Bruce joined her in the center of the room but then turned to face the opposite direction. In response to this, Diana followed suit and walked backwards until their backs met.

Diana stifled a girlish giggle after she felt Bruce's butt touching hers.

With that, Bruce tapped the floor with his sword, signaling the start of the session.

Together they whipped around and the small room's acoustics were put to the test as a sharp 'CLANG' of blades engaging resonated around them. With two hands firmly wrapped around the hilt, Bruce pressed down onto her blade, but Diana pulled away and started a barrage of attacks.

At first, they seemed evenly matched. Parry for parry, evade for evade.

Bruce traded feints with his opponent, but was sure to appraise her skills. "You're very good."

Diana had twirled around and caught Bruce's blade with her own, halting their progress momentarily.

"I'm in shock. Was that a compliment?"

Bruce's answer only came in the form of a sly smirk.

Despite Diana's excellent form and fancy footwork, Bruce naturally had no trouble keeping up with her. Soon their spar of exchanging thrusts and blows become lightning fast -- almost impossible to follow.

Diana couldn't help admiring his limitless talent and she assuredly knew he would be a match for any of her sisters. But she decided to keep that tidbit to herself.

With sheer luck on his side, Bruce managed to cut through her defenses and she somersaulted out of harm's way.

Silently both she and Bruce rethought their strategy. Now back at his initial position, Bruce crouched down and tapped his blade. He was waiting.

Diana assumed an en garde position while gearing up for an attack.

Knowing that he wasn't planning on moving from his spot, and while ignoring the mischievous glint in his eyes, Diana charged forward as Bruce remained in the crouched position. Her attack was on the offensive and she had quickly deduced that he would evade with a classic return, but her next motion was a vicious overhand movement. Something he wouldn't be accustomed to.

Now she was imagining her blade in close proximity to his throat, thus making her the victor for round one.

But nothing with Bruce went according to plan. She should have figured that out long ago.

As she came forward, Bruce, who happened to be alarmingly fast on his feet for a mere mortal, maneuvered sideways, and all together avoided Diana's oncoming attack.

But he wasn't quite finished.

In a swift stroke of his hand, Bruce's blade danced across her right shoulder. Diana halted in her tracks as she heard a soft _rip_. With that, Bruce chuckled and resumed to waiting on his haunches as both he and Diana watched scarlet material float to the floor.

It was only a sleeve, no harm done. Still, Diana felt annoyed. "That was an illegal move."

He raised a brow. "Actually it wasn't. You're just a sore loser." His ghost of a smile widened as he saw the fury in her eyes.

She coiled up tightly in anger but didn't verbalize her dislike for his comment.

_He may be sexy in his stupid sweats, but ...._

Now she was far from annoyed. He had hardly done anything that could be regarded as sexy. If you didn't count breathing, blinking, smiling, talking...

Nevertheless, her mind had betrayed her once again.

Diana drew her sword up close to her body and moved into a defensive stance. Bruce stood up and dragged his blade through the air in a swift motion and he pointed it at her.

In a silent agreement, their spar resumed.

But this time around, the ending came much faster as Diana was now out for blood.

In an even softer ripping noise, Diana's sword caught the hem of Bruce's tee and proceeded to slice upwards toward his shoulder. Soon the majority of his shirt was hanging by mere shreds. Some of which had already fallen onto the floor.

Diana gave him a sultry smile. "Who's the sore loser now?"

Bruce remained calm, but Diana clearly noted how he suddenly looked quite devilish. And she was quick to understand why.

He slowly and deliberately tore off the remainder of his shirt, exposing his entire chest, torso and... and.... Diana tried regaining her thoughts. _Oh Hera. Not again._

And his sweatpants were hanging so low on his hips.

Diana was already rapidly wondering if he was, in fact, wearing any... _under garments_.

She also was quick to notice that his skin was glistening and shimmery from the slight build up of sweat. There was also a vein ever so slightly protruding from his neck that she was now itching to touch.

In a ridiculously fast move, Bruce restarted their fight. It almost took Diana off-guard as it broke her from her reverie.

Thrust after thrust, Bruce moved silently forward, backing the unprepared Diana into a corner. She hadn't realized at first that he was pulling the same move on her. And before she could parry the superb alignment of his blade, Diana's tunic was in shreds.

At that, he laughed heartily and walked back to the center of the room, giving her the space needed to realize what had just taken place.

She thanked any deity that listened to her that she had decided upon wearing a bra.

Diana's chest was heaving in surprise as she stared down at the red mess of material. That was her best tunic. _Had been. _

She looked up at him, fully expecting an apology. But looking up had been the first of many mistakes.

The weight of Bruce's stare was beginning to be too heavy to withstand. And being fully aware of how _unclothed_ they were wasn't helping her mind in the slightest.

"So. Does this mean... I've won?" He finally blurted out.

Diana could barely focus as she watched him bite his lower lip.

Still, Diana straightened her posture, pushed disorderly thoughts aside, and shook her head. "I believe not."

Damn her competitive streak! She should have been ashamed of exposing herself like that in front him. But it was only a bra, she figured. And her Wonder Woman costume did little more of covering her...

Bruce now looked coy. "But all that's left is our pants."

_P-p-pants? _

_Oh Aphrodite. Why was he doing this to her?_

"Does this mean you give up?" She asked defiantly.

Bruce ignored her and walked slowly back towards her, blade low to the ground.

His eyes were fixed on hers and before too long, his mouth was only inches from her own. "I want to you to know something."

Diana swallowed hard and tried not to be affected by the awkward position he had put her in.

"What?"

Bruce moved in closer. His lips were practically touching her ear lobe. Diana felt herself go lightheaded as she became consumed by the heat radiating off his bare chest. She was also failing to push the thought aside of her breasts brushing up against his pectorals.

_"I'm not wearing any underwear," _he whispered.

Diana tried desperately not to let out a small gasp, but it happened anyway. She expected him to move away after he had confessed that specific information. But he didn't. And she made no move to leave either.

After he had lightly but somewhat aggressively bit into her neck, it was all over for her. Her sword slipped out of her grasp and fell to the floor.

"Diana?" He asked after disengaging from their physical contact.

"Hmmm?" She muttered dreamily.

"You just dropped your sword. That means I won."

Diana became wide-eyed as she watched him walk away.

"Why you little..." she seethed.

He only smirked. "Fancy some hand-to-hand now?"

* * *

:D


End file.
